


Three Years Later

by MissCatena



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, i dont know what i am doing with my life anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4085668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCatena/pseuds/MissCatena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touka sees Kaneki three years after he's left her. Only that it's not how (or where) she expected them to meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I write anything for any fandom, so please be gentle. Also, English is not my first language, so if you find any kind of mistake, don't hesitate to tell me!

She’s working, like any other day, when she hears a group of people enter. She’s brewing coffe, so she doesn’t rise her eyes to see who’s entered. She hears steps and voices, but she still concentrates in the coffee beans. She expects Yomo to go greet them, but he doesn’t move. “Hey! How many times do I have to tell you to greet our costumers!,” she shouts and, suddenly, she sees the briefcases. Shit. It’s been so long since she’s last seen a one of those CCG’s Doves. So she straightens her apron and walks towards them.

She’s got a weird feeling in her gut, telling her that something’s not right, and she doesn’t know why. It’s not like it’s the first time that she’s dealt with Doves in this kind of situation, but it’s the first time that she does so in :Re. This brings back a lot of memories of Ryouko-san, and Yoshimura, and Hinami, and how she misses Kaneki—she can´t believe she’s thinking this. She really can’t. Touka shakes her head and tries to keep a straight face while walking towards their table.

The moment she sees him, she knows something’s not right. Why is he here? It’s not that she’s not glad to see him, but why is he with them? He’s surely changed. His hair it’s not white anymore, and it’s not black either—oh, how she misses those days back at Anteiku—but she knows it’s him. How could she forget his face, when he always appears in her worst and best dreams, when he left her to protect her, even if it was him the one who needed protection? How could she forget the time he let eat his flesh, back at the chapel? How could he forget how he smiled when teaching Hinami, or how his eyes lit up when he talked about Takatsuki Sen’s books, or how he—stop. He doesn’t seem to recognize her, and the pain that that causes her is bigger and greater than she could have never imagined, so she acts like she doesn’t know him –please, have a seat here—, but Yomo knows. He sees right through her, but she still puts on an act.

It’s not that difficult, really. It’s only a regular client with his colleagues going out to drink some coffee, only that she’s a ghoul and he’s a dove, she’s her and he’s him. It’s not that difficult, she tells herself. And it actually surprises her how can she talk like nothing happened three years ago. She can pretend that. Because, deep down, she knows that she can never really forget. It hurts to admit that, it hurts so much–it’s not that it’s difficult, oh, no, it’s that it’s extremely painful and tedious and she hates everything and wants to punch some sense into him like she used to and wants to cry and shout his name and Kaneki can’t you remember it’s me it’s Touka-chan it’s me it’s meit'smeit'smeit’s–

She brings them their coffees. She doesn’t draw anything on them—God, it’s even painful to remember that he used to love her latte art. She doesn’t expect much of them—him—. She really doesn’t. So when he starts crying, her mind track stops. She’s surprised to say the least—is he remembering?—but she (successfully) tries to keep her face straight. His colleagues eye him in complete stupefaction. Hell, even him seems to be confused. “Sassan?,” one says. “Maman?,” a girl, this time–she would have laughed at this in any other occasion. The girl had just called him mother in French, and the thought of Kaneki being a mother when he can’t even handle himself is almost enough to make her smile. Almost.

She hands him a tissue. His eyes look startled, so she smiles softly at him, and his eyes soften as well—you are doing it again, Touka. You can’t afford to get attached to him again—and she smiles even more. His hand tries to grab the tissue, and accidentally touches her. She jerks her hand back. Everything starts spinning around faster and faster and she feels dizzy. She has to get out. She has to. She mumbles a hurried sorry under her breath and goes away, waltzing between the tables of the shop. She needs to get out. Her pace fastens and before she can realize what she’s doing, she’s running and doesn’t stop until she reaches the door. Once she’s outside, she inhales as much air as her lungs can take. Kaneki is inside the shop. Sweet, nerdy Ken is inside taking sips of a coffe she just made him after more than three years. This thought alone makes her want to cry her heart out, but she can’t let herself be taken aback by such emotions. She has to think logically. It doesn’t make sense to cry for someone who disappeared such a long time ago. Still, she sits, her back to the door, embraces her own body and lets herself weep for the boy that he once was.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that you enjoyed this! If you want, you can also follow me on tumblr @misscatena (yes, my originality doesn't know limits)


End file.
